Strike Where It Hurts Most
by with love - Elincia
Summary: The greatest risk is not taking one. Quinn knew her life would have been vastly different if she had joined the Resistance instead of the Reapers, but the darker side of things had never been as tempting until she met Rachel, a woman who turned her back on the good side a long time ago. Five or so years later, Quinn is in deep and can't back out. Maybe she doesn't even want to.


A/N: This story uses a WIDE range of Glee characters. You're going to need to know last names to understand most of it because I'll be using them the majority of the time. Get ready for a confusing roller coaster ride! Make sure to read the note at the end for clarification.

This was originally supposed to be a zombie fic, but...

* * *

I wasn't an Elite, but I was a Weapon. Intelligence, resourcefulness, and shrewdness; this is why I was classified as a TypeS Weapon. I'm part of a mercenary division named the Reapers. It's obvious we aren't good people, seeing that the sole purpose of our existence is to dominate and rule every country behind the scenes. There's an old organization, our nemesis so to speak, called the Resistance. They fight to protect the light in this world so we're bound to run into each other often. Their ranks are increasing but they're still not as strong as we are, that's for sure. Elites are lethal, a step beyond heartless and cold. We only have three of them; Pierce, Corcoran, and Lopez. Together, the three are known as the Unholy Trinity. I'm extremely close to becoming the 4th member. I am one of the superior Weapons, after all.

Reaper : LION

TypeS Weapon

Lucy Quinn Fabray

As of now, I'm one of three Reapers infiltrating the Resistance. For 11-going-on-12 years, the Reapers have carefully planned their downfall – I've only been accepted into the assignment for the last six years. The top secret academy, Holy Ground, trains their students for a total of seven years before sending them off to priority missions. TypeX Weapon July has been teaching here since we commenced, then I arrived, and TypeA Weapon Weston one year later. To be honest, he's too much like a Resistant than a Reaper. I have no doubt he'll be canceled sooner rather than later.

I have been wary throughout my time in Holy Ground (enemy territory, you know). My appearance is meant to be inviting and my manners are meant to make me likeable – all in which contribute to hide my ugly side underneath this warm aura. Because of my popularity, my smarts, and my backbone for justice, many boys and girls alike flock to me.

SHIELDS usually say I should've been housed with them because of my integrity, BLADES because of my daring, and LIGHTNING because of my ambition. I impressed the leader of the Resistance, Sue Sylvester, so much that I was given the title of KNIGHT, which drew jealousy and admiration from all students.

LIGHTNING seems to hate all branches of Holy Ground so most of my conflicts come from them, but Commander Figgins specifically told Weston to keep his minions on a leash since he was accepted into that particular division. The boy should be flattered that the Commander even assumes he has that power. Truth be told, I do not make friends with either division – I know the dangers to me and also to that person. I am more worried the person will rat me out or foil my plans than them dying in the process. The top three students we have to keep an eye on are Blaine Anderson (KNIGHT), Jesse St. James (BLADE), and Marley Rose (SHIELD). Not only do they specialize in different divisions, but they're best friends and could be deemed as a threat if they choose to stand together against the Reapers. In all actuality, I feel a connection to Anderson and the other two, although it's more of a respect thing than an intimate one.

Rose seems to have taken a liking to me, somehow. She used to be insanely jealous because of how competitive we both were in the classroom, but one time I saw her crying alone. I had gotten to her before Anderson did – he had seen us when I was holding her, and I had given him a shooing look – and she was crying over Jake Puckerman out of all people. Inside, I felt a little disgusted that I was comforting a Resistant, but I had a soft spot for pretty women. Her eyes, full with tears, made me want. It was the reason why I had turned subtly flirty, in the way only she could understand, and it made her blush whenever we were alone. I know she is with Puckerman but I honestly have no interest in her other than harmless fun – and maybe she can be used for Figgins' bidding.

I was abruptly pulled out of my thoughts when LeRoy entered the room. "Yes?" I asked, indifference in my eyes.

He cleared his throat, squared his shoulders, cane in hand. "Brody and I will be leaving for Tartarus. Do you wish to join, Quinn?"

Tartarus is a place hidden away and only accessible to Reapers on long-term missions. It carries just about anything you could think of, even normal items I could purchase to decorate my dorm at Holy Ground. I gave him a lazy look. "School, or business?" I drawled out.

"Business," he answered simply.

My heart skips a beat. I was up in one smooth move. "I will be down shortly," I said with a nod. He returned the nod, exiting the room. It was the holidays and I had come with little Brody to his manor, a place convenient for me to stay when outside of Resistance. Wrapping myself in a cloak, I strode downstairs to where the two were waiting.

* * *

There is only one lovely woman in my life. She is a graduate from Holy Ground, very special to Figgins' collection of soldiers since it allows him to gloat how the Star of the Resistance turned her back on the light. There was a darkness in her that the Resistance couldn't diminish, so she went rogue before she was offered a spot in the Reapers. The Resistance have only captured her once, tortured her quite badly for almost two years before she escaped but after she fully healed… My god, was she ever alluring, more deadly than ever before –

_And she reveled in it._

I watched her with intense eyes. She was right in front of me, smirking at LeRoy and a tense Brody at his side. It made me chuckle lowly.

"Corcoran," LeRoy greeted stiffly. "What news from the Commander?"

"No changes in his last order for you," she answered haughtily, flipping her gorgeous dark hair to the side. Then she turned swiftly to Brody, hand on hip, the other playing with her trademark dagger, "But for you, dear, dearest Brody, you are given a mission from the Commander himself." She leaned in, intimidating him. "Of course, Hiram doesn't want you hurt and since you are my favorite toy, I will grant you assistance from Lucy."

This catches my attention. I barely heard him voice out an emotionless thank you before I spoke, "Rach, what is the meaning of this?" Her eyes instantly find mine. "Whatever mission little Brody has undertaken, he should intend to fulfill on his own. He has yet proven to us if he is capable of shouldering an operation without any guidance. We do not aim to spoil him."

There was a moment of consideration until she sauntered towards me predatorily, her heels click-clacking in an anticipating way. I eyed her, lifting my head in defiance, challenging what I knew she would say next. Her hand crept up my face, stroking my smooth cheek before cooing, "Lucy, love, a Weapon speaking like that to an Elite is susceptible to punishment." I already foresaw that the very same hand would switch from affectionate to harsh but exactly when it was about to smack me across the face, I caught it and yanked her within my grasp.

"Leave us," I demand, my eyes still on her alluring ones. "Little Brody will learn his new purpose as soon as I return." There was some shuffling, an incomplete protest, and then silence. I held onto her tightly, nuzzling her neck and breathing in deeply. The warmth of her body against mine shared with her scent drove me mad with desire, prompting a low growl from the back of my throat. Her free hand appeared to bury itself within my blonde hair, her nails sensuously scratching my scalp in the way only she could turn me on.

"Lucy," she purred. "It's been too long."

I nipped at her neck, catching her release a breathless whimper, and my hands wildly roamed her full figure over her dark dress. There was no time to waste. I continued to bite and suck roughly everywhere around her neck, encouraging her to moan while I squeezed her breasts through her corset. I felt her nails rake down my back in a stinging motion, causing me to hiss in pain and pleasure. I hastily smashed my mouth on hers and engaged in a fury of dominate kisses; teeth on lip, tongue against tongue. I shoved her against the wall and placed myself between her beautiful legs, my hands already caressing her up and down like a lover. Bunching her skirts up to her waist, I revealed the tan, lovely skin of her thighs and in passion, grinded against her as she rolled her hips to meet mine.

"Lucy," she groaned, throwing her head back and hitting the wall. She looked at me underneath long eyelashes. "Fuck me. _Now_," she hissed, her nails digging into my shoulders.

The burning hunger inside me burst and I ripped open her dress in one practiced move before I dove in to latch my mouth on a perfect breast, my tongue swishing up and down on an erect nipple. She cried out, pressing my head closer in a desperate attempt to feel more. My hand came up to skillfully play with the lone breast while my other hand went down to tease her clit. She jumped in place, eyes rolling back, her bottom lip taken hostage by teeth as she bit down until it bled.

"More, Lucy," she commanded, but with all of the panting, it sounded more like pleading. "More, fuck I need more!"

I kept alternating between her breasts, gently nipping enough to hurt but still leaving pleasure. Her gasps were getting me hot. This isn't about love, Rachel doesn't love me, but as I said, she is the one woman in my life. She was it for me, whether she knew it or not. I could pretend to be anyone and a fuckbuddy I can do easily. Without warning, I rammed three fingers into her wetness and savored the choked moan I forced out of her wicked mouth. I fucked her mercilessly and memorized the euphoric expression all over her face, her legs coming up to wrap around my waist in an effort to get me to go deeper.

I'm enchanted by the sexual vision of her tightly clinging to me for dear life, her hips thrusting up to meet mine in perfect unison, the divine noises that came out from within her throat that only I can make her sing… Is it bad that it just makes me fall for her more? It was glorious when she came. Her mouth found mine in an instant and we furiously made out when I didn't cease my ministrations, bringing her to that point of ecstasy once more before I gradually brought her back down. She leaned heavily on me, trying to catch her breath while she panted next to my ear, her body limp but still shuddering in pleasure. I planted kisses between her breasts, up her collarbone, around her neck, on her jaw, before nibbling on her ear to whisper, "_Rach_."

* * *

I have already informed Brody and his adoptive father the importance of the visit. Apparently, they want him to find a way for Figgins' pets to get into Holy Ground and I'm simply there to make sure he doesn't get caught. In other words, I am to cleanly assassinate anyone who gets in the way, anyone who may be suspicious of Weston. This may mean a future confrontation with Anderson and his friends. Weston immensely paled when he received the update and I promised myself to keep an eye on him – he was too caught up with the good of the Resistance like his fathers. I cannot fully trust him with this matter.

As of now, I am politely eating dinner with the Westons and Rachel had invited herself over, sitting next to her once father (and LeRoy's husband) Hiram. They had exchanged a number of looks while glancing at me, chattering lowly while LeRoy was reminding his son incessantly about how he had to meet the Commander's expectations no matter what cost. I almost pitied the boy and I could see why he was so unhappy nowadays. He has the same fiery spark as Rachel, except unlike her, he lost it. I inwardly sighed. I love Rachel and since Hiram was her father figure and he loved his son, I begrudgingly accepted the fact that I would have to look out for Brody.

"Roy, if you are to speak, can it not be anything related to business?" I interjected, annoyed. "We are having dinner." It was times like this, I wondered how it was possible I could scold a fellow Reaper when I was one of the youngest under the Commander. It must be because I am the most valuable asset to the cause in Holy Ground, besides Weapon July. LeRoy was about to reply indignantly when I added, "I am confident your son knows how to get a job done so no need to discuss it, correct?"

He spluttered, "Yes, of course. He is highly capable of doing so." He righted himself. "Go on, Brody. Finish up your plate or else your father will be displeased."

Weston did so wordlessly and I can tell he was frustrated, but also relieved. I elbowed him under the table, giving him a look when he turned to me. He focused back to his plate and I rolled my eyes away. I didn't notice the amusement in Hiram's smile nor Rachel's frown.

* * *

Later that night, I laid next to a sweaty, but wholly satisfied Rachel in my bed. She had slept over and accordingly sneaked into my room when everyone was slumbering. The seductress had me in her hand as soon as I found her naked and straddling me, that naughty grin on her lips with a hint of mischievousness. She was never one to cuddle after sex, but for some reason, she permitted me to pull her into my embrace. A leg was thrown carelessly over me and her hand teasingly drew shapes over my stomach, glistening from our earlier lovemaking. Well, for her it was just fucking.

"You know," she said nonchalantly in the pleasant silence, her head tucked underneath my chin, "Hiram thinks you ought to be married to Little Brody."

I detected a small hint of irritation in her voice and confirmed it when she called Weston as little Brody, the nickname I only ever use. "That must be why he was staring at me strangely during dinner," I mused. I blinked when I realized Rachel was glaring at me. "You do not think I would be a good match for your favorite toy?"

This made her even more irked. "As much as I may favor him because he is Hiram's son, he does not deserve you at all. He cannot handle you." The hand that was lingering on my stomach wrapped itself possessively around my waist.

Wanting to wash away her insecurities – at least, that's how I would like to perceive them as – I leaned down to kiss her passionately. I pulled away gently but remained close enough to brush my lips against hers as I spoke softly, "Rach, sweetheart, who am I with right now?"

Her eyes burned into mine and I could spot some confliction. It was the first sign I ever saw to her acknowledgment of my feelings. She licked her lips. "Me. You are with _me_."

_You belong to me._

I couldn't resist kissing her again, and again, and again. My hand gently caressed her cheek, the other exploring her body for another round. I lightly pushed her down and crawled on top of her petite yet curvy form. Every time we did it, we went hard and fast, fervent and hungry. Now, all I wanted to do was show Rachel a glimpse of what love could be like if she gave it a chance, gave us a chance.

* * *

Holidays were over so I could not see Rachel until about three months later, unless I somehow met her in secret at The Rendezvous (a karaoke bar owned by the Resistance outside of Holy Ground) during the weekend. We did not have a relationship so we never saw the need to meet frequently, but I longed to see her. She never sets any appointments with me so I didn't dare show attachment to her. The only times I am tender is when I knew I could get away with it or I couldn't help it, like last night. Currently I was in the academy's library. I had discovered a book on the Art of War and was now excitedly reading through it. I soak up knowledge like a sponge, so maybe that's why I was claimed by the KNIGHTS.

"Hello, Quinn."

I barely glanced up, although I was taken aback to see Rose next to me with a shy smile. "Marley," I greeted with false warmth, "How were you during the holidays?" I placed my book aside to lend her my whole attention.

She occupied the seat beside me and plunked her books down with a purse of her lips. "Complicated as always," she answered wearily.

"Trouble with little Brody?" I inquired, leaning my chin on one hand. Like I said, he's one of the leaders in LIGHTNING and they have trouble being nice to anybody not in their group. It's funny how good guys can be jackasses too.

She gave a small laugh. "He's not even worth trouble. No, it's just…" She started to frown and sighed. "Sometimes it's hard being different, does that make sense?"

I grinned. "Way better than being a dimwit, if you ask me."

This brought a smile back on her face. "I don't see why Jake doesn't fancy you."

I scooted closer to her, absentmindedly pulling a few strands of hair from her face to tuck them behind her ear. "Maybe he thinks I can woo you away," I suggested huskily.

Her eyes met mine and she looked away with a blush. Coughing in one hand, she composed herself after shifting in her seat. "He knows I don't like girls."

I chuckled. "How's Blaine?"

She was more comfortable with this topic. "He's burdened as always. We try to help him but he has this obsession with playing hero."

I shrugged, returning to the book I had situated to the side. "He _is_ the best agent in training," I stated.

"He's unbelievable, that's what he is," she retorted. "Honestly, being constantly flanked by Blaine and Jesse sometimes make me wish I could find another friend to confide in, someone understanding, maybe even a _girl_ instead of a boy – "

"Cohen-Chang, Motta?" I proposed.

Her shoulders slumped in defeat. "Tina is a good listener, but I don't want just a listener. Sugar knows the boys well enough to get my perspective, but she can also be biased since she's Jesse's cousin and she has a crush on Blai—" She gasped and covered her mouth. Her fingers slipped off and she weakly continued, "a…a crush on Brad."

I raised an eyebrow at her. "You don't say?"

She flushed in embarrassment, looking down at her book.

"Hey." I tipped her head back up to face me. "Don't hide that pretty face," I murmured.

Her eyes widened and she visibly swallowed. "See, all Jake needs is a common sense of romance. Even being cheesy will be enough!"

I laughed. This girl is too easy. "Thanks for implying I'm cheesy, Marley."

She smiled again, sheepishly. "It was still…nice."

I glimpsed at her in the corner of my eye. She was a Resistant, and a loser if it wasn't for the other two, but I'll agree she wasn't _too_ bad. It was a shame she had to have those qualities. "Say, Marley…"

"Hm?"

"Ever thought someone could be the opposite of what they appear to be?"

She wore a thoughtful expression with a touch of confusion. "Well, with the Reapers at our doorstep, I think every possible method of precaution should be taken."

I twitched when she said our title, so carelessly and without respect, without permission. Filthy Resistant. A twisted smile formed itself on my face. "What do you think of Instructor July?"

* * *

I was able to fuel Rose's suspicions of Cassandra. No matter how trusted that woman is with the Commander, she has this kind of loyalty towards Sue as well. It wasn't reverent, no, but something was there. Almost like Sue was giving her something the Commander couldn't, which I deemed impossible. Weapon July never liked to give any kind of information about herself and her past, so I'd never know.

I stared at my throat through the mirror. I haven't been given the ultimate mark of the Reapers because I was still a spy within the student body. Even though I agreed with that logic, I was still upset I couldn't fully be in Figgins' force and commit to our cause. As of now, I am waiting in my dorm for Weston to arrive. Being a KNIGHT has benefits, including my own room – the privacy is a huge bonus since it makes my job easier.

I see the heavy door move and wrap my hand around a baton, which rests on my hip. "Little Brody, it's good to see you."

He always had this scowl on whenever wandering Holy Ground, probably influenced by Blaine's presence since he has to act like he hates the guy. Right now, it was simply a grimace. "Quinn." He nodded and took the empty spot on the loveseat next to the fireplace instead of the couch next to me. "Before you start," he began, "I want to say that I can do this alone. I don't need you to babysit me."

I crossed my legs together. "Then why does Corcoran believe you require any support?"

He gritted his teeth. "Let me prove I can make do by myself. I…" He jerked his head to glower at the fire. "I have to regain the honor my fathers lost. My family's reputation is in tatters."

I hummed, not very interested. "Little Brody," I scolded, "Your honor should be the last thing on your mind." I leaned forward, a dangerous glint in my eyes. "It is carrying out the Reapers' will that should be your first priority, and serving us should be the only goal you ever have. Figgins is everything and you are _nothing_ without him."

He was incredulous. "Quinn, are you suggesting I disregard my fathers? If it ever came between the two, I'd have to choose _us_ over them?"

"It shouldn't even be a question to consider, the answer should already be clear," I snap. "Even if it is the Reapers over your _life_, you will forfeit even that!"

His fists clenched as he brought them to his face. "I can't, Quinn…"

Angry, I stood and stormed towards him. "_Brody Weston_, if you fail then you will answer to me. Understood?"

He looked at me helplessly. "Why? We shouldn't even be a part of this! Blaine may be the prodigy Sylvester is waiting to unleash, but what are we?"

"Weapons!" I practically scream at him. "We want what the Commander wants, and he will bestow us unimaginable power if we side with him!" I grab his arm, roughly pulling his collar down to expose his neck. "Don't you want the insignia of an Elite? It's something to be proud of," I hissed, throwing his arm away from my painful grip.

He stood up as well, puffing his chest. "I know we are Weapons! I've grown up having that dug into my bloodly skull every second of my life!" he spat. "But I don't give a damn about what Figgins wants, nor what your _mistress_ wants, when all I want is to live without these terrible expectations hanging over me!"

Hot with fury, I whipped out my baton and struck him without pity. It's a good thing Holy Ground has a fondness for silence proofed walls. Emotionlessly, I ridded him of his regular pistol attached behind his back as he writhed on the floor in pain. I feel slightly guilty that I hurt Rachel's adoptive brother, but he had it coming - he did badmouth her as my mistress. I traced his jaw indifferently with the baton in my other hand; I love dual-wielding as much as a lion loves both of its claws. I clucked my tongue to show how disappointed I was. "Little Brody… I don't want to injure you." I tapped him lightly with the second baton to emphasize my point. "Weapon July will make sure you don't do anything reckless. Did you know she convinced Figgins to hand this opportunity to you? If it weren't for her, you would have been canceled for suspicious behavior and for some odd reason, she swore that if you failed then she could be canceled in your stead."

At this piece, he froze.

Pleased at the reaction, I walked back to my seat with a soundless sweep of my robe. I had been readying for sleep before I expected his visit.

He scrambled back to his feet, snatching his gun and standing far away from me. "She… Cassandra did that?" He was in disbelief.

I scoffed. "You're all she really has, Little Brody. First apprentice, right? Similarly, she despises Figgins." I muttered to myself, "Of course, that's her begging for a death wish."

He took a deep breath, calming himself. He needed to keep a cool head. He didn't want the Reapers to execute Cassandra. "So all I need…is to get the Reapers into Holy Ground?"

I was silent for a moment.

"Quinn?" he urged, his eyes hoping beyond hope.

I sighed. "Your fathers want to get back into the good graces of the Reapers," I said, bored. "So you are given the most honorable task of all, one that many doubt you will accomplish but…" I laughed humorlessly. "You are to kill the Director, Sue Sylvester."

* * *

It has been a month. Rose invited me to drink at the Rendezvous with her and the other two (including her boyfriend and Anderson's), so I said yes. After all, it would be good to investigate if anything new was up with Blaine. I don't mind ignoring Puckerman's glares.

"Sorry about him," Marley apologized, keeping her arm intertwined with mine as Jake marched past us all to enter the cozy place first. Anderson held the door for Hummel and also for us with a pleasant, "Ladies first." It was almost like Puckerman was the 5th wheel and not me.

I faced Rose with a charming smile. "Don't worry about it, a little bit of jealousy is healthy for any relationship."

"That may be so, but with Jake, any issue is never little with him," she grumbled.

"Has anyone ever told you how cute you look when you pout?"

Her cheeks pinked. "Quinn…" Despite the small protest, the fact that her arm squeezed me tighter to her boosted my ego. I chuckled.

I sat in between her and Hummel while the boys sat next to their respective love interests – I dearly hope St. James doesn't try anything funny with me just because we're the only single pair out of everyone. With our choice of alcohol in hand, conversation came easy and the atmosphere had that effect on everyone where the tension just left our bodies. I noticed how there was less space between Rose and I than there was between me and Hummel. Thinking it was better to lessen the provoking with Puckerman, I involved myself in conversation with Anderson's date. I was curious about him and how deeply tied he was with Anderson.

"Nah, Blaine here just worries about me too much," Kurt jested at him. "But I can take care of myself."

I liked how he radiated with confidence. "Hear that, Blaine? It sounds like he could take on more than the average Resistant." I winked at him and he chuckled.

Anderson laughed, scratching his head sheepishly. "You know I mean well, Kurt."

Rose then whispered in my ear, "They make a good couple, don't they?"

I saw Puckerman too busy telling St. James a joke to pay us any attention, so I ever so slightly nudged my head towards Rose to smirk. We were in very close proximity and her eyes were quite welcoming. "Yes, they do," I whisper back, and I felt her sweet breath fall across my lips. Then a tingly sensation flowed through my body. It was familiar, the one that only happened when…

_Rachel_.

Across from our table was a lady wrapped in layers of clothing, a hooded cloak over her head, but the posture, the aura was the same. It was obvious, so very obvious, that I was appalled no one realized what I realized. An Elite was in the vicinity and no one was aware of it. No one but me.

I resist pulling away from Rose in a quick fashion and did so in the speed that looked casual enough. I gathered everyone's attention, "I do apologize, but I have a friend I am supposed to meet. I only remembered because she'd always take wine over beer any day." I jiggled my empty bottle with a ruthful smile. Kurt did a sad 'Aww,' Blaine said lightheartedly, 'Next time then,' Jesse shrugged with a 'Your loss,' Jake was happy but at least added, 'That's a shame,' and Marley was disappointed although pleaded, 'Come find us again, if you like.'

I was eager to meet with Rachel so I left with a quick goodbye, barely glancing to make sure she followed me out. I made my way through throngs of people and into the shady streets around the Rendezvous, where I know privacy will be given. It was when I passed a dark corner, did she appear behind me and pushed me in. My back made a soft thud against the brick wall, but I was thrilled to be with her again.

"Quinn," was all she said, her eyes searing into me and I loved every second of it.

I tilted my head to the side, enjoying the harsh grip she had on me. "In a bad mood, I see."

She sneered at me. "What were you doing with Sylvester's minions? And don't you recall that Noah's half-brother is offlimits? No, most importantly…" She brought me off the wall only to throw me back into it roughly, causing a flash of pain down my spine. "Why were you flirting with the female _Resistant_?"

None of this fazed me. With one hand, I touched her face in a thoughtful manner. "Feeling insecure, Rach?" I was answered by a sharp slap and an ice cold glare. I couldn't help laughing. It only enraged her more.

"I am not to be played with, Weapon," she spat. "If you are to sleep with another behind my back, at least have the decency to make it a Reaper!"

"I'll have you know, I am a proud Weapon." I captured her enticing lips in a violent kiss, forcing mine on hers and smirking when she sank her teeth in – no remorse. "And for your information, I am not sleeping with the Resistant. Although, I have to wonder…" In a second, I reversed our positions and held her against the wall instead. "We were never together to begin with, so don't get your panties in a twist."

I took her then, silencing her indignant moans and angry cries of passion with forbidden love.

* * *

I am unforgiving. I am well aware of the darker side of my soul. It's the whole reason why I never joined New Directions, a noble guild within Holy Ground that's known for its variously talented members. In truth, I could be an invaluable soldier in any army, but I chose Rachel. Another reason as to why I was in a rush to acquire the Elite's symbol was to finalize my coming into the dark ranks, which is the only way I can gain Figgins' complete trust. His bodyguard, Wilde, had offhandedly said that if it weren't for my conscience, then I could be the next big thing to happen. It's her fault I have to wait longer for the Commander's approval to the next level, that _Kitty _girl.

I never told Rachel why I continued to serve the Commander. It was the only valid option I had if I truly desired to protect her and save her soul. When we first met, I was just that cocky girl who couldn't hold a candle against an older, experienced fighter like her. In fact, she taunted me every opening she got. Eventually, I enjoyed arguing with her and I began to understand her as well. Unfortunately, the infatuation caused me to notice how I didn't like the reverence she showed in our division and the dangerous tasks she was sent out to complete. Spending nearly two years in enemy hands should tell me she has no soul left thanks to all of the physical and mental torture she endured, but I lived to prove her wrong. I will gladly kill every future victim that will befell from her hand to save her humanity over mine – after all, I needed to cross the line between good and evil more often.

If I can obtain superiority in our order, then I will do so.

I was snapped back into the meeting. I stood shoulder to shoulder with Weston, just outside the circle of Reapers but behind LeRoy. I was a bit disgruntled at that fact, seeing as I believed to be more deserving than he. It seems everyone's attention is on us. In the corner of my eye, I see Brody sweating. Why?

"Dear Quinn, what do you say about a duel?"

He was speaking to me. My body involuntarily went rigid. "A duel, Commander?" I asked deliberately.

He was always smiling, if not when livid. "Yes. You have proven your worth to be more than even some of my faithful soldiers combined and in such a short time! I thought to reward you with a duel for the right to be in our fellowship. A duel between you and Brody."

I relaxed and became excited. "To the death?"

LeRoy tried to interrupt, "I don't think it should come to that, Comman-"

"Roy," Figgins warned, his eyes slits now, "Remember your place."

I looked into Weston's anxious eyes. He shouldn't be afraid; he was a great warrior from what I know of. Then again, the difference between Weapon Types S and A was truthfully a large gap. "Weston…are you scared of being a Reaper, or scared of me?" I inquired quietly. He didn't reply right away, so I spoke loudly, "Do not worry, Roy. You will recall that Little Brody has been given a mission of utmost importance. That is _his_ rite into the circle." I bowed to our Commander. "I am ready to commence the duel."

Figgins swept his hands with a pleased smile, everyone hurriedly parting to give Weston and I needed space. This whole meeting, I had not once looked at Rachel and I dimly wondered if she cared about what will happen to Weston more than what could happen to me. Now I recognized why the both of us were given a wooden staff at the start of the strategy conference. "Move into your stance, Little Brody," I cooed, watching in glee as he stiffly did so.

There was something inside of me that knew Brody wasn't going to give his all tonight and that I would be doing him a favor by defeating him quickly. In the back of my head, I knew soon he would convert into a turncoat. A part of me wanted to push him into that direction because deep down I believed the Resistance was a benevolent organization while the other half of me relished in a bloody victory and craved for more. By the end of the night, I had successfully become one of Figgins' favorites.

* * *

I was elated. I felt powerful. Basking in my glory has somehow intensified my thirst for knowledge. Being extremely intelligent has always made me feel above others. Even my sexual prowess seems to be glowing; a mysterious seductive aura now surrounds me, greater than the captivating lull I used to have.

"Corcoran," I called out into the Tree House, a secret hideout Weapon July managed to build in Holy Ground during her years disguised as an instructor. The brunette I was searching for appeared out of the shadows, hand on cocked hip and chin up in a haughty manner. The familiar sight made me smile.

"Quinn," was all she said, condescendingly.

I drew close, wrapping my arms around her waist tenderly. "Come now, don't speak in such a tone," I whispered. I kissed her leisurely, feeling her hostility melt away bit by bit.

Withdrawing wistfully, there was now merely a slight frown marring her stunning features. "It's not my fault you've changed," she defended.

"Changed?" I giggled. "Rachel, I've been freed. Now it's just Holy Ground in the way…" I kissed down her neck, working at a hickey. "And without future agents avaliable, Resistance will crumble. The world will be ours in no time."

A low moan was freed above me. "I am glad you are an Elite," she said finally. "No, what was it that Figgins called you? A _Titan_, a class all your own."

My hands caressed her sides. "Why do I sense a 'but' here?"

She was silent for a while and it worried me. Pausing my trek down her wonderful body, I peer into her eyes questioningly. "What's wrong, Corcoran?"

She flinched. Barely, but I saw it. "Just fuck me," she muttered.

My eyes widened. "What?" I was utterly baffled. The words were fine (she did have a dirty mouth), except the way she uttered them triggered warning bells at the back of my head. "Did someone hurt you?" I queried seriously.

She cackled at this. "Hurt me? Ha! I am the infamous Rachel Corcoran, born to be Greatness and the Star of the Reapers." Despite all the grand titles, the look in her eyes revealed loneliness.

"Hey…" I said uneasily. "I know we aren't lovers, but – "

She cut me off before I could say anything else, "That's right, we aren't lovers. We never will be. So stop acting as if you care and go on with what you came here for tonight."

I was momentarily speechless, then offended. "Corcoran – "

"There you go again!" she screeched, ripping herself away from me. "Rachel this, Corcoran that! Not Rach, or love, or sweet – just 'I want you' and no 'I miss you,' just…"

Bewildered, I tried to calm her down, but was elbowed away. Fed up, I glared back. "Geez, what the hell crawled up your ass and died?"

"I hate you," she hissed.

Taken aback from the amount of venom dripping in her voice and also the hurt inside me, I sneered, "And you're just a whore who spreads her legs the second a soldier wants to use his _weapon_ on you." I stopped her hand from slapping me, clenching it until she cried out in pain and fury. Then I spotted the wetness of her eyes. I immediately halted, my heart thudding loudly. What was I doing? Shocked at myself, I let go and stumbled back. Immense shame rushed through me when she shuffled backwards, wary of being too near me. I swallowed. "Rach… I'm sorry. I don't know why I am acting this way."

She faced me, but her head was turned away and all I could see was her trembling lips. My heart ached at the sight. "Apologizing isn't enough," she sniffed.

It was silent between us for a minute. I took a cautious step forward, relieved when she didn't cringe or scream for me to stay away. "Rach," I pleaded. "I realize I haven't treated you as I once have before since I've become Figgins' right hand and for that, I am sincerely sorry. I regret everything I have done to make you feel so…unloved." Before she could protest that it wasn't about love, I braved on, "Don't…say you don't love me, because that will kill me." I weakly smiled when her head whipped towards my direction, incredulity written all over her face. "I love you, Rach," I shuddered, "And even if I can't have you, I'm yours."

It was strange with our age difference. Sometimes she's vulnerable around me like she is now, but she should know the kind of power she has over me - both personally and status wise. Corcoran, I mean, Rachel, is in an unrivaled spotlight, an almighty combatant with palms meant for sparring, a mind meant for manipulating, a mouth meant for no mercy, and a heart meant for _me_.

Yes, we both seem to have possessive natures.

"I belong to the Commander."

I blinked, disturbed out of my thoughts, and stared at her aghast.

She must've seen it, because she added quickly, "Not... Not in the way _we_ have been lately, but in everything else." She drew herself tall. "I live for our victory, for the day the Reapers will reign."

I surged forward. "You want to know what I live for, why I turned my back on the light and joined your cause?" I was right in her face, her breath rolling into mine. "It was the only way I could be with you."

"I'm not capable of love. Besides, it has no use whatsoever. Do you want me to be weak?" she demanded, but clearly affected by my declaration. She was faltering.

"Am I weak?" I shot back. "Do you want to know something else? I _like_ being a KNIGHT." I laughed manically at her dumbfounded face. "I'm everything a Resistant should be…but I was drawn into the Reapers the moment you let me in and now there's no turning back." She was pale, deathly silent and still, I noted. "Is it truly impossible for you to love me?" I asked, wounded.

"You are cruel," she settled on, struggling to mask her shaking with a matter-of-fact tone. "You throw away Weston like a doll when it comes to what you want, you worship the very ground the Reapers walk – "

"So do you," I retort, but she continued.

" – you treat me as a slut, and," she raised her voice when I was going to fiercely object, "you expect me to love you?"

I gritted my teeth and for the first time, I looked away from her. "I am not going to drop everything I've worked hard for just because you rejected me. If you detest me so much, then I know where you stand now. I must be off, Corcoran." I turned on my foot and rushed out when her voice stopped me.

"There you go again, calling me _Corcoran_. Those Titan pills really did a number on you, didn't they?"

I whipped around. "Corcoran is your name, isn't it?" I jeer, my insides torn and humiliated. I was too blinded by rage to see that she was right about the pills Figgins gave me ever since I became a Titan; I was losing myself sometimes. "What else should I call you, whore?"

Her face colored in anger. "Rach, you should call me Rach! Like you used to! Like you did when you were busy comforting me for naught!"

I growled. "Well, guess what! I may love you, but with the way you've been attacking me tonight, I think I'll treat you with as much care as I treat any other Reaper; _none_." With that, I left her behind in the storm of a broken heart, but not fast enough to protect my own from hearing her last words crying out.

"You may not believe me, but I've calculated every little thing I've done in order to keep you out of Figgin's greedy clutches – to keep you safe! I _needed_ you to stay safe. You were never supposed to be in this deep, Lucy! …LUCY!"

* * *

A/N: Known information:

Reapers are catagorized by experience in the field (Weakest to Strongest)

Recruit

TypeRE Weapon

TypeA Weapon - Brody Weston

TypeX Weapon - Cassandra July

TypeS Weapon

Elite - Santana Lopez, Brittany Pierce, Rachel Corcoran

Titan - Lucy Quinn Fabray

Mentioned: Noah Puckerman, Figgins (Commander), Kitty Wilde (Bodyguard), Hiram & LeRoy Weston (Sponsors)

Resistants are separated into specific talents, so there is no weakest to strongest format. However, KNIGHTS are generally all-arounders and receive special treatment.

BLADE - Jesse St. James

SHIELD - Marley Rose

LIGHTNING

KNIGHT - Blaine Anderson

Mentioned: Kurt Hummel, Jake Puckerman, Tina Cohen-Chang, Sugar Motta, Sue Sylvester (Director)

P.S. I know how this story will go. I just won't have the time to continue it! And Figgins is the bad guy because I didn't want to put Finn in that position lol I hope you enjoyed this chapter! It's the only one you're getting LOL


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